Nightmare
by KZN
Summary: Yako is having nightmares, and she's starting to have problems from lack of sleep. She tries to keep it a secret, but Neuro is catching on... No spoilers, no relation to my other story. Rated T for possible gore. NeuroxYako.
1. Chapter 1

There was fog. There was black and there was fog.

Nothing else.

Yako was standing in that field, immersed in that low lying, rolling mist. She called it a field because it seemed that the ground was relatively flat, and she could see nothing in all directions; the horizon was pitch black, as well as the sky above her, if she could really call it a sky. There was no moonlight, and no stars. The thick, swirling fog at her feet gave off an eerie glow, the only light in this strange world. And there was no sound. No wind, no chirping crickets or croaking frogs, none of the usual noise that accompanied the night. Just silence. And Yako was forced to believe that this was not night after all. But it wasn't day either.

Yako called out. Her mouth formed the word "Hello?" but no sound came out. She tried again. Nothing. Once more, and nothing at first. No sound came from her lips, and then a soft echo of her voice slid towards her over the fog. She tried again and finally, she heard sound come from her throat.

"Hello?" The sound of her own voice was comforting, but as the echo faded out to reveal silence once more, Yako's temporary comfort died with it.

She stood listening to nothing for several long minutes, not daring to take a step, for she could not even see the ground she stood on for the thick silvery fog cover. The silence was unnerving, and as she glanced around she wished that whatever it was, someone or something would answer her.

And then Yako decided that she was better off with the silence, because from the ground somewhere close to her, she heard a sucking sound that made her blood run cold. She likened it to a toilet plunger being torn off a slippery surface. Suddenly, thousands of frightening images explaining the sound came to mind, and Yako cursed the ability of imagination. Her breath and heart began to quicken as she attempted to prepare herself for facing whatever was the source of the sound. But it was quiet again, and for awhile once again silence settled over the atmosphere.

But the sound came again. And again. Yako shuddered. The worst of her imageries came to her again, but once more silence fell. And then it began to rain from the black sky. The droplets were clear at first, and they rolled off Yako's skin in a soothing fashion. However, any comfort brought on by the rain quickly disappeared, for with each second, the droplets darkened in color and began to feel thick. After about 30 seconds, they were black and felt like tar. They stuck to Yako like cement, and though she tried to brush them away, their rubbery texture was getting more and more difficult to rid herself from.

Yako had no choice; she had to find shelter. She began to run. Immediately, her assumption that the ground was flat was proven false. She stumbled on her first few steps, realizing that it was lumpy. Large rocks and branches from trees jostled around under her feet as she ran. She could only see the blank landscape ahead of her, but for now most of her concentration was being put forth to scraping off the tar-like rain drops that splattered against her skin.

She tripped and fell; she could now see what lay under the ground's cover of fog. Yako immediately realized that there was no ground after all. What she had thought to be rocks and sticks were in reality dismembered human corpses; decapitated heads and limbs littered the landscape. A few yards away, a corpse that was not as torn up as the others was rummaging through the grave-pile. Yako watched as it pulled a not-so-dismembered comrade from the rubbish and began to tear off its limbs. She now knew what the sucking sound was; she covered her mouth to prevent herself from vomiting from the sight and stench and to muffle a scream. Unfortunately for her, the corpse had heard her, and turned its ugly head to watch her with yellowed eye-whites. It blinked once, and then the limbs underneath her began to grasp her, pulling her down through the gore. Although she was out of the tar-rain now, this was worse. Thousands of grotesque hands tugged her into their midst, strings of half-rotten muscle hanging from their broken bones. Yako was now completely submerged, and she would have screamed if the air had not been squeezed from her lungs. She was still being pulled down, down, down…

And suddenly she was dropped and she fell through silence. For a moment Yako was afraid she would keep falling forever, but a second later she had slammed onto a hard surface. She lay there shaking for a moment, her eyes closed; she did not want to see where she was. Finally, when she had gathered up all her courage, Yako opened her eyes and pushed herself to her feet. It appeared that she was up on a loft in an old barn. It was quiet, but she could hear a light breeze and the creak of the aged wood of the barn. She glanced down to see cracks and patches of nothingness in the floor. She gulped and glanced upward; nothing, just black. Glad that the corpses had disappeared, Yako sighed and looked back at the floor to look for a spot where the floorboards were safe-looking. She found one, took a step forward, another step, and finally a third.

Her feet crashed through the weak, molding wood and she heard it snap; Yako fell through the loft of the barn and into a small lake of dark, cold water with a splash. She shrieked when she realized that she was floating, not sinking. She attempted to propel herself upward to keep herself afloat, but too much of her energy was being used. Perhaps it would have been hours before she had run out of energy, but the force of the pool was increasing by the second until she could no longer do anything to stop it; she began to sink, her efforts of splashing and squirming became futile. Still, she struggled, pulling at the air until even her hands were submerged in the terrifying black water. She thrashed and twisted and fought for air, but she could no longer see the light of the surface and she was running out of air. She could feel hands grabbing her ankles now, dragging her faster and farther away from the sweet air. The hands were small; they must have belonged to dolls or small children. She turned down to look and the only thing she saw were numerous pairs of gleaming red eyes. No pupil, no iris, just red glass. She inhaled in surprised and coughed when she took in water instead of air. She was drowning, and there was no longer enough air for her brain to keep working. Her vision faded and the last thing she saw was a face lit up by the red from the doll's glass eyes below her; the face was bloodied, grinning down at her with yellowed, broken teeth and holes for eyes and parasites working their way through its eerily floating hair…

Yako awoke gasping for air; when it came easily, she was slightly surprised. She breathed freely and shakily for several moments before she was able to accept what had just happened as a nightmare, just a dream. She was in her bed, after all. She sat up gingerly and glanced around fearfully through the darkness. Nothing unusual. She looked to the clock gleaming its red, digital numbers towards her; 2:34 am. Gleaming like the eyes of the dolls that had just dragged her down into the depths of the ice-cold, dark water. Yako shuddered and pulled her legs towards her body, wrapping her arms around herself. She was up for the rest of the night until morning, flinching and swiveling her eyes around the room at every sound or movement she thought she saw out of the corner of her eye.

On her way to school, Yako's friend Kanae accompanied her.

The red-haired girl flung her arm out to stop her friend, who was about to walk out into a traffic-filled road.

"Yako!" She exclaimed, trying to catch her attention. "Are you all right? You just tried to walk into the street for like the third time this morning!"

"Huh…all right?" Yako blinked. "Uh-huh, I guess I am. I'm just—" She stopped to yawn. "Reeaally tired."

The crosswalk light turned green for them to cross.

"Ah…are you over-working yourself?" Kanae asked, concerned for her friend.

"No, no…well, I might be, but I had a bad dream last night. Kept me up until morning…I guess I'm a wimp, huh…" Yako laughed lightly to herself and yawned again.

Kanae shook her head slowly in pity.

Throughout the school day, Yako fell asleep in three of her classes, although the teachers quickly woke her up, and so her naps were short. During lunch she was barely awake enough to eat, which for Yako is quite a feat. At the end of the day, a concerned Kanae offered to accompany her friend home to make sure she got there safely, but Yako declined.

"Nah…I really gotta go to the office. Work today," She mumbled sleepily.

"Are you really sure about that?" asked Kanae.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Well, two reasons. You look like you need sleep more than anything and…Yako. You're going in the wrong direction."

"Oh, I am? Haha…" Yako stopped in her tracks and turned around.

In the end, Kanae ended up walking Yako to the office. She offered to come inside, but Yako shook her head.

"You don't want to see what goes on in there." said Yako quickly, shooing away her friend.

Kanae shrugged and waved goodbye. Yako returned the wave, and once her friend was gone, she started up the steps, trudging slowly while hanging onto the railing to keep herself steady. When she opened the office door, she was greeted with a foot to the face. It was all she could do to keep herself from falling backward.

"There you are, brainless parasite." Neuro grinned, detaching himself from the ceiling. "Look through newspapers for me. The mysteries are not coming to me, so you must look for them."

Yako shuddered at the word "parasite," remembering the face from her dream last night.

"Yes, yes, but if you don't mind, please be quiet, I have a headache," She grumbled, plopping down on the couch. As a stack of newspapers was dropped in front of her with a loud smack, she groaned. "_All_ of them?"

"Indeed, all of them, Yako. You must miss nothing."

Yako groaned to herself again and got to work. The sooner she had this finished, the sooner she could go home, she supposed. It proved to be difficult, however, because almost immediately after unfolding the first newspaper, she was nodding off. Unfortunately for her, Neuro noticed, and took it upon himself to wake her up. And sadly, this involved smashing the girl's face into the coffee table in front of her.

"What do you think you are doing, Servant Number One?" asked Neuro. "You have most of the day to sleep. Now you have a job to do."

Yako couldn't tell him. She just couldn't. She wasn't exactly sure why. But she figured that somehow, it was a bad idea to show Neuro any sort of weakness. After hearing him tell her so many times that she needed to evolve, to change…it wasn't such a good idea to show him that she was so weak. Besides, she thought to herself, Neuro wouldn't help her anyway. He would only laugh at her for having such a stupid reason for lack of sleep.

"Sorry, sorry…" mumbled Yako, going back to the newspapers. She was determined to finish. After all, she knew Neuro would not let her leave until she had.

Nevertheless, she ended up drifting off several more times, in which each followed by a thwack on the head or a clawed hand around the throat to wake her up. The demon was getting quite annoyed at his little servant; really, what was wrong with her? This was not normal. Finally, when he had woke her up for perhaps the twentieth time that day, he asked.

"Are you dying, worm?" The demon inquired.

"What, dying?" Yako was confused until she realized that Neuro was referring to her irregular tiredness. She struggled to find an acceptable excuse. "Ah, no, I just…I was up late studying for tests last night."

"Perhaps you require my assistance?" Neuro asked dangerously.

Yako knew what he meant by that.

"No thanks, I don't need all my teachers in the hospital again."

It was several long hours before Yako was allowed to leave, finally finished scanning the papers. She had found nothing, but Neuro simply grinned, announcing that he had more for her the next day. Yako trudged home, barely aware of her footwork, and the first thing she did when she arrived home was collapse onto her bed and fall asleep.

Yako was watching a procession of colorful dancers of some sort pass by on a street, but the scene quickly changed for the worse. The sky darkened, the street disappeared into nothingness and the dancers turned into a parade of gangly corpses, all wearing simple, torn clothing. And suddenly she was among them, being jostled along. They marched without seeing her, without stopping. She was tripped several times, although she managed to keep her balance. And then she was pushed and she fell over. She shut her eyes to brace for the impact, but it did not come. When she opened her eyes, she found that her surroundings had changed. The parade was gone. With a sick realization, she noticed that she had been here before.

Please, please no.

There was fog. There was black and there was fog.

Nothing else.

--

Author's Note: Ok, here it is, the first chapter! I'm sorry I got it out a bit later than planned. I hope you guys like this one. I rated it T for gore, I guess… (I made myself shudder from writing some of the parts here…)


	2. Chapter 2

The days went on, as did the nights. Yako was getting less and less sleep. The nightmares repeated, and each time she could swear they were more vivid and terrifying than the night before.

The parade, then the mist and the silent field. She calls out, and there are two tries in vain, one with an echo, and one she could hear. The sickening noise. And then the blackened, sticky rain. She trips, and the torn and rotting corpses dragged her down. The old barn, the boards crack. She falls, and the black water consumes her. In the red glow of the doll's eyes, she sees the mutilated face grinning down at her.

Every night it was the same, and every night she was kept up by fear, only to feel stupid about it in the morning. Yako was still having trouble concentrating on the jobs Neuro gave her, and when solving a mystery a few days back, she had even fallen asleep in the middle of her "The culprit is…YOU!" routine; Neuro had given her hell and more for that little slip-up. Still, she insisted her lack of sleep was only due to school-related issues. Yako tried her best to downplay her exhaustion, but it was not long before she had to resort to energy drinks to keep herself awake. She took care not to drink them in front of Kanae, however, for her friend was still suspiciously concerned. Yako wanted to talk to her friend about her problem with the nightmares, but she figured it would only worry her more. And so Yako was trying to help herself on her own. As of yet she had found no solution to stopping the nightmares or how to deal with them, but she did not know who she could ask for assistance. Today, Yako was sitting slumped backward on a bench outside the office and going over the options in her head while still trying to accomplish her duty of handing out fliers with Godai.

She could not enlist the help of her mother, for she was away from home on a business trip once again, and Yako felt that if she was going to speak to someone about her problem, it had to be face-to-face. Similar to her reasons of deciding against talking to Kanae, Yako knew her mother would only be worried and end up flying back from Britain immediately just to comfort her daughter.

Certainly she could not ask Neuro for assistance; Yako shuddered to think of the outcome to that—she imagined the demon handing her an odd Hell-tool that was supposedly useful for stopping nightmares, only in reality to have it either worsen them (although Yako could not imagine how that could be possible.) Or perhaps he would simply torture her in some other way. Not as if that was avoidable anyway.

She had already ruled out Kanae, and now she sighed when she could not think of anyone else to ask. Suddenly Yako sat up with an idea. Godai. The former-yakuza was not likely to get overly-concerned about anything, and he _was_ older than her. He was bound to have more experience than her with these types of things, she figured. She glanced sideways at him; there he was, looking angry and moody as usual. Wondering if it was really such a good idea to bother him, Yako began having second thoughts, but she shook her head to herself and spoke anyways.

"Mr. Godai?" The girl asked, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"The hell do you want?" inquired Godai, only bothering with an annoyed glance at the girl before going back to his duty. "And why aren't you helping me, you little shit?!"

Yako ignored his less-than-polite question. "Um…do you ever have nightmares?"

"What? Hell no." Godai said, quickly suppressing the memory of a dream he'd had a few nights back that depicted "that shitty monster" telling him to do math problems; every time he'd gotten one wrong the tiny desk he's been sitting at would sink a few inches further towards a pit of numbers that was waiting for him. Those numbers were truly horrific, squealing little taunts at him about how he lacked a sufficient education. "Only losers have nightmares. Wimps."

"Oh…right." Yako replied dispiritedly. This was proving to be difficult. "Well…if you did…then how would you get them to go away?"

"If? There ain't no if here, brat." Godai retorted. "I wouldn't know, would I? I said I don't fucking have 'em, so how the hell should I know?!"

Yako sighed. How could she have expected anything else from Godai?

"Well…never mind then." The girl yawned sleepily.

Yako thought of the braid of hair that so often swung leisurely from the wall. Would Akane know anything? She figured not. After all, it wasn't like Akane slept anyway. And now that she was dead, was there anything for her to fear? Yako decided not to ask. She sunk down onto the bench again and attempted not to doze off. Her attempt was, however, in vain, and within a minute her eyelids had slid shut and she had drifted off into sleep, flopping over. Yako was awakened several hours later by Neuro, however, and rather painfully at that; sometime during her nap, Godai had evidently moved her back upstairs into the office, because when she awoke, Yako found that she was underneath an overturned couch on the cold floor. Neuro had seemed to find it a good idea to flip the couch over, tumbling the poor girl to the floor and landing the heavy deadweight on top of her.

"Get up, you useless bag of fertilizer." ordered the demon. "You have school tomorrow, do you not?"

"I'm surprised you actually care about that…" Yako grumbled sleepily, dragging herself out from under the couch. She stood up and yawned.

"How naïve. It is easier for me if you are not complaining about missing classes." Neuro informed her with his usual threatening grin. "Although it may be more entertaining to glue your mouth shut to prevent those complaints instead…"

"Ah, I see. No, thank you. Well then, I'll see you." Yako left the office and let the door shut behind her, hearing a rather loud "THUNK" of something heavy being thrown against the door. Even in her dazed state she could imagine the demon's blankly smiling face and a lighthearted yet malevolent comment: "Tch. Just missed her."

She headed towards home. It was only several blocks away that she realized that as she had been napping in the office, she had not been plagued by her nightmares. All the way home, the girl pondered over this. Did this mean the nightmares were over? Not likely. Was there something comforting about the office? Remembering all the torture she'd been put through in that place, Yako gave a sarcastic laugh at her own suggestion. Yeah, right. But what was it then? By the time she arrived at home, Yako had concluded that perhaps it was simply because when she had been sleeping in the office it had been day instead of night. Shrugging, she sank down on her bed and dropped her head to her pillows.

Yako was afraid to fall asleep; she did not wish to see her nightmare again, and she knew that the moment she lost her consciousness, she would. And yet she was simply too tired to keep herself up for longer than a few agonizing minutes. Her willpower finally gave out and she drifted off to sleep once more.

The parade, then the mist and the silent field.

No, no. Not again.

She calls out, and there are two tries in vain, one with an echo, and one she could hear.

No more, please no more.

The sickening noise. And then the blackened, sticky rain. She trips, and the torn and rotting corpses dragged her down. The old barn, the boards crack. She falls, and the black water consumes her. In the red glow of the doll's eyes, she sees the mutilated face grinning down at her.

But then the dream continued and Yako did not awaken. The air squeezed from her lungs and her vision faded to black; she thought she was dead. But no, she wouldn't be able to think if she was dead, right? She made an effort to open her eyes, and found that it was easy. She was, it appeared, still underneath the black water, but her breathing came straight and unopposed, as if she was breathing in clear, pure oxygen instead of deathly cold water. She could still feel the cool liquid that surrounded her touch her skin, but she was now suspended at her current depth, no longer sinking. A moon-white glow shone from beneath her, and she twisted to look at it. She gasped, bubbles pouring from her mouth, when she saw that the glow was being emitted by a familiar face; her father smiled back at her warmly, his arms outstretched from the depths of the water. Such a familiar face--tender and kindly and lively. Unscarred and as alive as ever.

Perhaps tears of nostalgia and longing came to Yako's eyes at that moment, but she was unable to tell because of the dark water surrounding her. "Father," she mouthed, but only bubbles escaped her lips. Still, her father seemed to hear her, because he nodded, his arms still outstretched towards his daughter. Yako extended her own arms towards her parent, her mind not even processing the fact that he was dead. He was here, right now, and she would go to him. She would get him back. The reality of his murder faded into oblivion, if only in that moment. That is, until his features degenerated, mutating into the pale, bloodied face of his freshly murdered corpse. The grotesque wounds on his body re-formed. The spark of life faded from his cheerful eyes—so much like his daughter's—now they were dull and clouded.

"No," Yako mouthed, but this time, her father did not respond; his body drifted downward, decomposing steadily as it fell. The last thing Yako saw was the blank, lifeless look on his grayed face before darkness closed in on her once more and fingers closed their grasp around her limbs.

Upon waking up suddenly, Yako could feel wet on her cheek; so she really had been crying. If she had to think about it, the image of her father's corpse was more disturbing than all the other elements of her nightmares combined; unlike with the numerous corpses of strangers, this was someone she knew and loved. From this, she could truly feel not just fear, but pain. Her heart ached, but there were more pressing matters at hand—she could not move.

It felt to Yako as if she were glued to her bed, and not just simply glued, but hardened and encased with cement. She felt weight pressing down on her body but she could see nothing that could possibly produce this sensation. She tried to swivel her eyes, but no matter how much effort she put into it, not a millimeter of movement would come. Fear, inexplicable, irreplaceable, true fear pierced her every fiber of being. She was breathing, she was sure, but she was stuck, frozen, and she could hear her heart thump loudly against her ribs. She could have sworn she had just heard movement in the corner of her room. She wished to turn to look for a source, but alas, she could not. Her mouth was open slightly, and she tried to cry out, to call for help. And yet her vocal cords did not budge, and only her panicked breath came from her mouth. Trying futilely to calm herself down, Yako attempted to move just a small part of her body—the tip of a finger. However it seemed that every inch of her body was truly immobile. Sincere horror flowed through her very soul; it was unexplainable, but at that moment there was nothing that she wanted more than to be able to move freely again. She felt stiff from the terror, and she would have been screaming with agonizing fear had she been able to produce a sound.

Yako lay there vulnerable and involuntarily still for what felt to her like endless, dragging hours. Finally, gradually, she began to be able to twitch her fingers, then bend her arm. After a long while and 

great effort, she wrenched her body stiffly from the bed. She was free, able to move. And yet that irreplaceable fear was still there. Curling her legs to her body, she wrapped her shaking arms around herself and cried. She was up, paranoid and frightful and mourning, for the rest of the night. In her panic she forgot to check the clock, but the time spent in that dark room along felt like forever to the poor girl.

That unsettling night, Yako made her decision.

She had absolutely no choice.

There was only one person left she could talk to.

As much as she would be reluctant, she was going to have to bring it up with Neuro.

--

Author's Note: Sorry for the late update, because I meant to have this out yesterday. In any case, internets to anyone who can tell me what phenomenon Yako experienced in this chapter (if you can't get it, don't worry, because it will be addressed in the next (and final) chapter.) Extra internets and very much pity from me to those who have experienced it themselves; it is truly terrifying.


	3. Chapter 3

"Um…Neuro, do…do demons…do they dream?" It was better to ask without being specific, Yako decided. Perhaps it was possible to get the demon to help her without him knowing the full story, she figured.

It was another stoic day at the office, and Yako had been given another large stack of newspapers and magazines to go through. So far, the girl had just barely managed to stay awake in anticipation of bringing up her issue with Neuro, and not to mention the anxiety of wondering how to do so.

Neuro raised an eyebrow, only sparing his servant a small sideways glance.

"Of course," He answered simply. "Why would you think differently? Although you may be miles below me on the evolutionary scale, all sentient, living beings can dream."

"Ah, really?" Yako shrugged off the insult; she barely noticed it in her daze. "Well…what kinds of things do they dream about?"

Neuro spared Yako another glance to check if she was still working; he wasn't used to casual conversation with her, although he could tell it wasn't just that. Noticing his eyes on her, Yako quickly looked back down at the newspaper she was holding. The demon flicked a paperclip across the desk at the girl for slacking off—it hit her square in the forehead.

"Different subjects, obviously."

Yako decided to persist.

"…Like what?" She made sure to keep her eyes down at the paper as she rubbed the spot on her head where the metal paperclip had made solid contact; she could feel a small, painful lump forming.

"It varies."

Yako could tell she was getting nowhere. She would have to play closer to the subject.

"Are they nice dreams?"

"Unsystematically, yes." Why was she being so imprecise?

This wasn't getting any easier.

"W-Well…what about bad ones?" Dangerously close to admitting her problem.

"What about them?" A grin formed on Neuro's face—so that's what it was.

"Never mind," Yako quickly mumbled, going back to concentrate on her work. She was silent for awhile before she added, "I was just curious."

The rest of poor Yako's day passed rather uneventfully; without anticipation to keep her up, she nodded off several times. Neuro, originally waking the girl up violently each time she had fallen asleep, had now resorted to balancing a dangerous-looking, ticking instrument on her head. He informed her rather cheerfully that if it was to fall when she nodded off, it would explode into arrows of fire in her face. The demon was pleased when this method seemed to keep his servant on-edge enough to stay awake, as her weak human body's need for so much sleep was getting quite annoying. And as much as he enjoyed torturing the girl, it really was troublesome to stop what he was doing so often to kick her—quite literally—back on track.

Apparently, Neuro had not been lying about the use of the object which he had placed on Yako's head, for by the time Yako was headed for home, she had nodded off twice under its usage, and now she could feel that her eyebrow was slightly singed. She pouted as she ran her hand gently along the burned hair; stupid Neuro. Well, he had set her head on fire before, so it was not as if this was anything new. She was rather disappointed that she hadn't gotten any help from Neuro, but it couldn't be helped; she couldn't expect him to understand after all, and, even if he did, she reminded herself that he wouldn't be intent on helping her. It was a stupid idea to want to ask him in the first place, she scolded herself.

Again, when she arrived home, Yako feared falling asleep. She knew it was inevitable, but especially with the appearance of her father in her last nightmare, she did not want to experience it again. When she noticed that she was shaking, Yako bit her lip and tried to cheer herself up. At least tomorrow was Saturday, so she wouldn't have to endure school. She scoffed at herself; what kind of condolence was that? To stall her sleepiness, she changed into her pajamas and then went into the bathroom to take a look at her singed eyebrow. Yako flipped on the light and noticed Neuro had apparently written on her face again in her sleep; she sighed. When her paranoia kicked in and she saw movement in the corner of the mirror, however, she quickly left the bathroom without bothering to wash the marker off—it would inevitably come off in her sleep, anyways, nonetheless on her pillow—and then she collapsed on her bed, curling herself underneath the covers as if they were protective shields. Within a few seconds, she was out like a light.

The parade, then the mist and the silent field. She calls out, and there are two tries in vain, one with an echo, and one she could hear. The sickening noise. And then the blackened, sticky rain. She trips, and the torn and rotting corpses dragged her down. The old barn, the boards crack. She falls, and the black water consumes her. In the red glow of the doll's eyes, she sees the mutilated face grinning down at her. The dream continues again, and she is haunted by her father's smiling face, only to have him rot and sink away seconds after.

Yako's eyes flickered open; once again, she could not move. She was frozen to the spot, on her back, looking up. With all her willpower, she tried to shift her arms, her toes, her finger, even her eyes—anything. And yet just as it was last night, it was impossible. That unworldly fear pierced through her again, and she found herself breathing fast, too fast. She felt herself getting dizzy, and she knew it was hyperventilating, but she could not stop herself; her fear doubled, if it was possible, when movement formed in the corners of her eyes.

"Mom," The girl attempted to call out, but the only thing that escaped her lips was a small squeak. Suddenly she remembered that her mother was still half way around the globe on a business trip.

"Father," He was dead, but no one thinks clearly when in a state of panic. Yet again, however, only a squeak.

"Someone…anyone…" The words sounded muffled and incomprehensive. "Anyone," she called again, and this time she could hear her voice clearly, if a bit muffled. However, she received no answer.

And then Yako heard movement on the ceiling. Panicking, she concentrated her vision, trying to see through the darkness. Wait. The ceiling. That meant…

"Neuro!" She called weakly.

Never before had she been so delighted, so relieved that the demon had snuck into her home, into her bedroom, to stake-out on the ceiling while she slept. Normally, she would have been annoyed—even disconcerted—but in that moment, the wave of relief that passed over her was like a warm bath of sunshine. That sunshine was quickly distinguished, however, when her eyes adjusted to the minimal light and something crawled into view overhead.

It was not Neuro. Grinning, snarling down at her was the face from her nightmares; that eerie, grotesque, parasite-infested face, pure malice radiating from every one of its pores on its slopping, sagging skin, bloody and torn. The dark holes where its eyes should have been were like empty voids, black holes sucking in all the light in the room. Its head rested on its body in a rather peculiar fashion; the thing crawled, skittering and dragging its mangled body along the ceiling as if it were the floor, and yet the head was twisted backwards to stare down at her—that is, if something could really stare with empty eye sockets. Yako swore she could hear its putrid breath as it twisted around the corners of the room and eventually, even with its sporadic movements, it was making its way closer. Eventually it came close enough so that it had positioned itself directly above her; she could definitely hear it now, not only its breathing but the sound of it gnashing its broken teeth together, saliva flowing around its tongue. She wanted to scream. More than anything, at that moment, as she stared back at the creature above her, she wanted to scream. Her breath was shaky and quick, and if she could have managed it, she would have screamed as if there was no tomorrow; of course, with this thing in her bedroom, perhaps there really wouldn't be. But yet Yako was still frozen rigid on her bed, helpless and vulnerable to the vile thing looming above her.

And then the creature opened its grotesque mouth and let out a terrible squelch; with a short thrust of its legs to the ceiling, the thing had propelled itself downward. It twisted its body around in the air like a cat and extended its rotten limbs toward her as it fell…

But suddenly it was gone. At the moment the creature should have made contact with Yako, it had simply disappeared. In its absence, in the silence that followed, Yako could hear her heart pumping a mile a minute. For awhile she lay there, frozen to the spot, before she realized that she could move again—she swiveled her eyes around the room, and finally sat up shakily, tears of fear starting on the edges of her eyes. She felt dizzy and nauseated and afraid. She couldn't stand it anymore.

Without bothering to get dressed or even throw on a jacket, Yako spared a few terrified glances around the room before leaping nervously off her bed and leaving the house; she wasn't even wearing shoes. It was a foggy night, which only kept the girl on edge. She shivered constantly, not just from the cold but from her panicky fear, which followed her even outside under the lights of the street lamps. Hardly aware of where her footwork was taking her, the girl walked on, desperate but not quite sure what to do. She had no indication of how late it was except for the fact that the only noises she could hear were her own breaths and footfalls; she was utterly, coldly, terribly alone. After awhile she began to cry from fear and loneliness, whimpering slightly.

Eventually, Yako ended up at the office building. She glanced up in short, lingering confusion before heading inside and climbing the stairs shakily but quietly, holding tightly to the railing to keep balance in her dazed, dizzy state. She found herself a few moments later with her hand on the doorknob to the office. After a few uneven breaths she twisted the handle and pushed the door inward. The room was dark and at first glance, much to Yako's disappointment, unoccupied, but upon further thought, she knew Neuro would not have left the door unlocked if he was not inside. She stepped forward weakly, letting the door swing shut behind her; when it thumped shut louder than she'd imagined she jumped in fright.

Peeking over the edge of the couch, Yako found the demon sleeping soundly on his back; he had taken off his jacket and was using it as a pillow. His green eyes flickered open, letting off a familiar, faint green glow; seeing Yako looking back down at him, those eyes clearly demanded an explanation. Upon further inspection, he could see that she was shaking rather violently. There were tears in her eyes, and she looked pale. A sensation dangerously close to pity shot through the demon and his eyes almost softened. Almost.

"What are _you_ here for, despicable wood louse?" Neuro asked smoothly; a somewhat rhetorical question.

Searching for an explanation, Yako fumbled nervously with her hands. Finally she spoke.

"N-Neuro…someone…there was someone…no…something that came in…I saw it…" She started quietly, nearly inaudibly. "And…in my house…there's…there's no one there…"

A poor, vague explanation, but Neuro was no imbecile; he had picked up on the significance of the conversation earlier that day, and standing before him now was proof that his assumptions had been correct. Really, what a pathetic little human, getting so severely disturbed over a few nightmares and a simple sleep paralysis-induced hallucination.

"I see."

There was silence between the two of them for a moment, and then Neuro reached up and grabbed Yako by the arm, flipping her roughly over the back of the couch and onto his chest. He shut is eyes again and placed an arm around the girl awkwardly, pressing her tightly to him.

Although she was stricken with confusion and shock, Yako felt her fear melt away. She was safe. It was odd; she spent most of her time fearing Neuro, and now she felt relieved and safe while so close to him. But that was a different kind of fear than the fear she had felt all these nights, she decided. All the time she had spent worrying for her safety and fretting over what the demon would do to her next, she had never been worried that he would actually hurt her. Sure, he inflicted torture and pain, threatened her life daily and taunted and teased her…but never once had he let real harm befall her. Yako did not like relying on others, even if the "others" happened to be Neuro. And yet, she could not help but feel complete comfort and security. She was warm and the rhythmic rise and fall of the demon's chest was more calming than she would admit to herself. She could hear his heartbeat through his ribcage, and the thought of being so close to him brought an unwilling flutter of happiness—or perhaps embarrassment—to her stomach.

"I…thought you said you always slept on the ceiling." She could think of nothing else to say.

"Be silent and sleep," Neuro ordered, and he felt her nod slowly; soon enough, she had left her state of consciousness and fallen asleep. She would need to be punished for causing trouble, but for now, he would let her sleep. After all, just like his constant abuse and torture, this was just another nudge in the direction of the detestable little bathroom rag's evolution. However, to make him go to such lengths…how troublesome this girl was. But he was not going to tell himself that this close contact was unpleasant. For whatever reason, it was satisfying. He grinned devilishly as he himself began to drift off again.

Perhaps, from now on, his methods of inflicting pain and torture would have to include this sort of touch…

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Author's Note: Poor, confused Neuro. Anyways, once again, I apologize for getting this out to you guys so late. But anyways, final chapter! Please tell me what you think, and thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews and feedback!


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